


ruin is a relative outcome

by Julx3tte



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Tags will be added, eventual sylvgrid, mercedes is a gossip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25963861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julx3tte/pseuds/Julx3tte
Summary: Sylvain hangs out with the other blue lions. He understandably gets bullied.friendship fic, eventual sylvgrid.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Sylvain Jose Gautier & Mercedes von Martritz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	ruin is a relative outcome

**Author's Note:**

> thx nicole for the concept

Sylvain thinks Mercedes is too kind to him, sometimes. He’s pouring her favorite tea, waiting patiently for her to cross the courtyard and find the corner of the garden that he’s set their table in. He wished she would think more carefully about their meetings.

He’s learned by now that meeting with women in public comes with certain connotations. He has a reputation, after all, and despite Mercedes’ impenetrable modesty, it is damaging to spend so much time alone with him. 

Despite the stares from other students, though, she openly accepts tea with him whenever he asks for it. Every now and then the thought flitters through his brain that she’s only doing it to reform him. Mercedes, hand of the church, future archbishop if Lady Rhea ever offered the position to anyone with a lesser crest than that of Seiros herself. 

It’s not that Sylvain doubts her intentions or the sincerity of the question she asks; he’s simply worried about Mercedes’ reputation. Call it his third eye of politics - it’s the same reason he bothers to maintain his own reputation. Better that his peers think that he’s inept than dangerous. 

Mercedes, though, seems to see right through him. That was fine - Ingrid does, and Felix, and sometimes even Dimitri lets slip his own impenetrable facade and looks at Sylvain as if he were offering a command to one of his subjects, just to see if Sylvain would follow it. He always does, though not without a little bit of reluctance. 

The woman of the hour walks through the gates just as Sylvain’s taken the last of the sweet cake from the rolling cart and sets it at the center of the table. Mercedes’ hair sweeps behind her, lifted by the autumn wind and smiles at him when she spots him. Sylvain offers a small wave back and pulls her chair out for her.

“Why do you always pick the corner, Sylvain?” she asks, sitting on her chair. She scarcely bothers to wait for his invitation, and has picked up her cup before he’s even extended a hand to offer it. 

Sylvain furrows his brows, unsure how to respond. “I’d tell you it’s because of the wind but that would be a lie,” he confesses. “Perhaps I just want privacy?”

Mercedes scoffs gently - the only woman in the monastery capable of such a feat. “As if I am the kind of woman that needs protection from rumors?” she says, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

Sylvain says nothing. He narrows his eyes and rests the side of his head on his hands, propped up by his elbow and the arm of his chair. 

After a beat, Mercedes’ stern face breaks into soft laughter, and Sylvain shakes his head into his hand.

“I’m kidding, Sylvain. Thank you for the tea. Now will you tell me about how Felix is doing? I hear he’s blushing an awful lot more than usual this week.” 

It’s Sylvain’s turn to scoff. Who would have known that, for all of the spiritual wisdom Mercedes has offered, it’s her courting advice that has the women of Garreg Mach coming to her?

“Is that where Annette thought to take Felix’s coat and wrap it around herself without asking?”

Mercedes blushes, slightly, and laughs into the tips of her fingers. “Perhaps,” she says. “Or perhaps she was simply cold.”

“You know, I see through you just as well as you see through me,” Sylvain says over a bite of cake. “I’ve noticed the way you bump into Dedue by accident.”

Mercedes is mid-bite, and closes her mouth around the fork full of cake with a  _ hmph.  _ She chews slowly, weighing her reply. “There is not a vow of chastity that Seiros asks of us, you know.” 

Sylvain’s face pales a bit, and Mercedes tilts her chin in victory. It is beyond Sylvain’s powers to imagine Mercedes with a man, or a woman for that matter, and he hides his concern behind a sip of tea.

“Besides, I have seen the way you look at a certain blonde in our class,” Mercedes continues. “Don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical to ask of my pursuits without offering any information about yours?”

Sylvian pales more, but recovers with a deep, slow breath as Mercedes’ attention is momentarily taken by the sight of a tall, white head of hair over the bushes of the garden.

He sighs. “Ingrid deserves better,” he says, as Mercedes sips tea to rid herself of the blush that’s grown on her face.

“The way I do?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

“I… you got me,” he says. “So what should I do?”


End file.
